Privilege of Being Yours
by lydialithium
Summary: After putting aside their differences and secretly spending fifth year together, Harry and Draco are not ready to let each other go, but summer isn't always warmer. The Dark Lord's return and the summer's events are a crippling issue for the romance. 'Can our love ascend the chaos' Harry can't help but wonder when things get rough. Rated M for extreme angst and detailed sex.
1. Chapter 1

Hello readers! I hope you will like my story. I already acknowledge that I disregard a significant amount of JK Rowling's plot, but this is fanfiction afterall. The title is not mine either. It's quoting a song called Turning Page by Sleeping at Last. On another side note, I apologize for such a long chapter (1.2K words), but it was the only way to break the story up. Furthermore, please enjoy my first chapter.

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ღღ Chapter One ღღ

The back of Draco's head hit the wall, forcing him to gasp at the ferocity being displayed from Harry. Chests pressed together, he was feeling heated and breathless. His lover pressing wet, biting kisses at the quick, successional pulse in his throat while the brunette rubbed his thigh up against his hardening erection. All he could do was grasp Harry's shirt and try to keep his knees from giving out beneath him as the wild noises choked in his throat and his head spun.

The Slytherin willed himself to speak, "Harry..." Responsively, he paused the passionate ongoings. Draco took in the sight of his tussled grown out locks and swollen, abused lips, eyes glazed over and lidded with hunger and desire. "Bed." Harry looked around as if he had not realized their intimacy was taking place against the entrance of the Gryffindor dormitories and not comfortably in his four poster bed.

All of the others had gone to the Divination Class he should have been attending as well; a perfect chance to be with Draco. Said boy, chose that moment to slip his arms around the Gryffindor golden boy's neck, shakily exhaling a hot, shivering breath into the shell of his ear. Harry hoisted the thin legs around his waist and carried the pale wizard to his mattress, thanking the divine that there was no possible chance any of his friends would walk in.

As he laid Draco back, his limbs were still holding Harry. His lively emerald orbs met the warm, grey eyes shining a graceful expression of adoration and love. Harry couldn't help but caress the blonde's beautifully defined cheek bone and watch the causation of his lashes fluttering shut. Eyes still pleasantly closed, he placed his hand on Harry's. The Slytherin could nearly hear his happiness buzzing in his head. After all the misery he had lived through, he deserved Harry. This is what fate had granted him: a chance for the pain to dissipate and never return. Maybe.

Harry laced their fingers, bringing Draco's forearm with the Dark Mark on it to his lips, kissing the cursed label. The action snapped opened Draco's eyes and his gaze was questioning, he knew Harry had done it purposefully, but his curiosity stuck in his throat.

The dark-haired boy could still feel the memory of that awful night so vividly that he almost trembled in fear. It was the past summer after they had finished their fifth year. He hadn't wanted Draco to return home. With Voldemort back and Lucius' presence in the graveyard and every death eater ambush since until his imprisonment, his concern for the blonde heightened drastically. He could tell his lover was scared too, despite the brave faces applied trying to convince Harry it was okay. How could the boy who lived understand? Everyone he loved was safe. Meanwhile, Draco's mother was there in that horrid mansion that had become slave to Voldemort and other Death Eater house guests. He shuttered to think of the repercussions she'd deal with if he didn't return, what she might have to sacrifice, her life most likely. With his father in Azkaban, he was the only one who could protect her.

Ultimately, his unwillingness to leave behind Malfoy Manor, Harry's agitation about Sirius dying, and their inability to have a normal relationship that their friends and family could know about caused the chosen one to cut ties and end the year long love. But Draco just couldn't abandon his mother even if it meant losing the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Immediately upon coming home for the holiday, they felt extreme remorse and regret for how they could have made things turn out differently, but the Malfoy boy knew he was right to stay for mother and Harry didn't know how he could possibly fix their relationship or if it was even mendable. So the couple spent that summer mourning and moping over their loses, thinking what if.

Then that night came. Somehow it had never occurred to them that through the connection Voldemort had with the boy who lived, he could easily view every private, intimate moment the two boys had shared. Already there had been so much abuse towards Draco since his father had failed, but the situation escalated the second he who must not be named saw those loving thoughts and memories in Harry's head. Just as he had with Sirius, Voldemort showed that he would hurt Draco. Even though they weren't together, even if in years they went back to being enemies, Harry would still come. He would always want to rescue the boy who had captured his heart and made home in it.

Voldemort had fully intended to murder each of them, make Draco watch Harry die as punishment, but not before he had shamed Malfoy by giving him the dark mark. Poor Harry would come to the boys rescue only to see such disloyalty.

It had been one of the worst nights of Harry's life. He would never forget the look of terror and pain both physical and emotional on his lover's face. Narcissa standing mere ten feet away, ran to Draco the moment Harry disarmed Voldemort. As they prepared to apparate, the dark haired boy joined them, leaving a furious Dark Lord behind.

They arrived at Grimmauld place only for Draco to begin kicking and screaming, "You should have let me die!" Those words would ring in Harry's head for the rest of his life. How young and scared he had looked, like a cornered animal, as Harry tried to grab ahold of him and embrace him like nothing had changed. "No, I'm dirty. You can't touch me. Don't touch me," Draco was sobbing, falling to the ground and still trying to cower away from the dark haired boy.

He had apparated away before Harry could do anything further, leaving him disheartened and distressed. He didn't know that Draco was safe or if he was okay. For all he knew, his lover had been found by Voldemort or the emotional turmoil consumed him and he had finished himself off. If anyone had ever worried more than Harry had those two weeks until school began, he was sure it would have killed them.

Then on the train the blonde was still obviously so bitter of what happened. He wouldn't even make eye contact with Harry and then when the Gryffindor boy tried to stay behind to talk with him, he assaulted him, too overwhelmed and scared to confront their issues. The consequences of that summer were harsh and put the couple through Hell. It was something Harry was still hoping to forget, even just for a day.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello faithful readers! You have made it to chapter two. I know I've managed to get out another chapter within 48 hours, but don't always expect this. It may take a few days sometimes. Lastly, I'm thinking that I won't be writing chapters shorter than 1K. This one has turned out to be 1.8K.

ღღ Chapter Two ღღ

"Have you seen Draco? He wasn't in third period," Goyle asked Blaise as they paced past Gryffindor table. Hermione whipped her head around, eyes following them as they disappeared out of the Great Hall.

She addressed Ron with a perplexed expression, "Strange. Harry wasn't in third period either."

Ron shrugged. "Maybe they had a row." Hermione drifted off absently, thinking she must have a talk with him about missing class and getting into fights. It hadn't been but a month or two since Draco had broken Harry's nose on the train. She was worried the friction between the two would peak soon and become unmanageable, despite Harry seeming to be perfectly unaffected by the Slytherin snake.

The Potter boy chose that moment to enter the Hall. His wet hair a straightaway indication to Hermione that he had showered. 'In the middle of the day,' she inquired silently to herself in bewilderment.

"Hi Ron." He sat down. "Hermione," he addressed with a nod, reaching for a tray in the middle of the table with biscuits on it.

"Where have you been? Did you go to fourth period? Why weren't you in third period?" She momentarily ceased the rapid fire of question, then asked a little quieter as if it were a secret, "Did you and Draco have a row again?"

Both Harry and Ron's eyes were unblinking like deer in headlights. Harry dropped the biscuit he had been holding in midair. "Geeze, 'Mione, let the man breath. With that attitude, if they'd have a row, he'd be scared to say." Harry couldn't help but smile at how much the two balanced each other out. Even if she was sulking at his comment, she knew he was good for her. She muttered something along the lines of only being concerned, which earned an affectionate hand caress from Ron, but still was not much acknowledged. Harry knew this was only temporary and would be brought up at another time; she never just dropped something so easily.

Out of curiosity, Hermione looked over to Slytherin's table to see if Draco was there. His spot was empty. Just as she was about to advert her gaze and forget about it, Pansy yelled, "Draco Malfoy!" and the Granger girl discreetly looked to see him moodily sulking to his seat. The pug-faced girl lost no time in scolding and embarrassing him in front of their friends. Draco's expression seemed uncaring, only giving a small wince when he sat on the hard bench. He looked uncomfortable, Hermione had decided, with his hair fussed and clothes disarrayed. 'How unlike him' she thought. Draco was always well put together as the prideful pureblood that he was.

...

"You haven't eaten today," Harry said calmly. It had been months of this conversation. Something always feeling odd about his lover.

He could feel Draco stiffen in his arms, almost becoming a smaller spoon than he already was. "Yeah," the blonde's voice sounded vacant. He rolled onto his back, folding his hands across his stomach, giving Harry the view of his refined profile.

"What the hell do you mean 'yeah?' That's not an answer, Dray!" He propped himself up on his elbow for a better view of Draco's face, searching for an emotional tip off, even a little clue, just something, _anything_ to go by. Harry laid a gentle hand on the pale face. He was worried to say the least, yet Draco gave him a look as if he were the one confused. "Please let me in."

At that, the blonde hid all emotion again, pulling Harry's hand from his skin. "It's nothing. Really. Just sore from earlier." Harry appeared to accept it. If you pride a man's ego, Draco had learned, he would leave you well enough alone. The brunette drew him in tighter, nuzzling his head to the side of the Slytherin boy's face. "I _love_ you."

"I know."

Harry attracted the boy's attention back to him with an embrace, supporting Draco's head in his palm the way you would an infant and using the other arm to fully encircle his body. "Come here," he whispered gently. Draco could feel Harry's heart pounding against him through the proximity of their chests and tangled limbs. The dark hair boy pulled back just far enough to crush their lips hard together with a fiery passion.

Draco couldn't help grasping the sides of Harry's face and immersing himself in the loving sensation coursing through his body. 'Harry, you're too much,' the blonde thought, his eyes tearing up. Draco tightened his hold on his lover, wanting to savor the comfort it meant to him as well.

"I love you too," his breathless voice tiptoed on the incantation, "I love you so much." The tears started escaping from his eyes.

"Draco, what's wrong?" the Gryffindor's eyes were cast with worry and he rubbed circles in the boys back, comforting him, urging him to go on.

'He shouldn't see me like this' the blonde thought with remorse.

Harry's eyes darted side to side undressing Draco with the look, telling him that he was being investigated thoroughly. "It's just overwhelming sometimes... being so close to you." It wasn't entirely a lie either. The Slytherin boy knew that Harry was his escape from the Dark Lord and Death Eaters. Only Harry's touch could give him such reassurance and forgiveness.

Draco twisted from his lover's grasp, frightening him that he was going to leave, only to reach for the hem of his shirt. As he pulled the material over his head, he gave Harry a fixed, smoldering stare and nibbled sultrily at his lower lip. The lustful expression it charmed from the dark haired boy's face was enough to make Draco lose some of the confidence he had in devising the action. He felt his cheeks flame with blood and adverted his gaze to the floor.

"Don't be so shy, Dray" Harry uttered, his voice already beginning to take on a gruff note. He couldn't help but think how he looked all the more precious with his lashes casting shadows on his distinct cheekbones. His eyes traveled to those ample red lips, causing him to lick his own in excitement. Draco unbuttoned his pants and let them fall in one swift motion before sauntering back to Harry, dancing his hips as he placed his hands on the boy's chest and straddled his him. Harry involuntarily leaned his head up for the blonde to recapture his mouth.

Draco fisted his lover's shirt, planting firm kisses on his lips then jaw then throat. Harry groaned a low growl, grappling for handfuls of the blonde's ass and squeezing the sizeable bum in his hands, using the hold to manipulate their bodies flush together. He bit down hard at the crook of Draco's neck, forcing a hearty yell out of him, and proceeded to grind their clothed erections together.

Pulling away, the Slytherin ripped off the boy's shirt, leaving his black locks messier than before. He grabbed ahold of the rich, midnight hair and crushed a kiss to his mouth. Harry growled and flipped Draco beneath him before ripping off his boxers. "Mmm, no fair" the pureblood boy whined, fumbling his fingers at the button of Harry's trousers, causing him to chuckle and remove the offending clothing himself.

"Happy?"

If only he knew the difference he made to Draco just by loving him, just how happy he did make him. Said blonde nodded and Harry brushed light kisses across his nose to his closed eyelids, giving a small caress to his cheek to match. "You're so beautiful, Dray." He made it hard to reply, the tone of his voice ached with intimacy.

Draco chirped out a light moan as Harry began decorating kisses down his pale torso. Seizing his erection, the Gryffindor parted his lips around it, earning another surprised noise from him. The blonde tangled his fingers through Harry's hair, fucking his face, with each thrust emitting a loud gasp reverberating off the stone walls.

Harry, without breaking pace, reached his fingers to Draco's mouth for him to coat them in saliva before pressing a single lubricated finger at his entrance. Draco's body was craving so much more as Harry only teased the puckered flesh. Ceasing the oral pleasure, he drunk in the sight of the writhing boy under his control. "Please, Harr-ry" the blonde stammered. Finally obeying, he eased a finger in and resumed pleasing him orally, stretching him out finger by finger until he was ready.

Wrapping his legs around the brunettes well muscled torso, Draco aligned his bum with the erection hovering above. Harry pushed gently inside, coaxing careful past the tight muscles, cajoling his lover's pain with sweet kisses, humming peacefully in his ear and pulling him close, as he did so very often before they made love. He never wanted to hurt him or give him the short straw, only for him to feel so very loved and special.

The blonde gave his hips a small wiggle. "You can continue," he murmured, blushing at the compromising position he was in.

"If I can," Harry hissed withdrawing his cock. "You're still so tight," he groaned through gritted teeth. With each thrust, it felt as if Draco's body wanted to keep him inside, his arse clenching and constricting painfully on Harry's dick. The blonde began desperately pounding down to meet the thrusts, abusing his own g-spot with Harry's penetration. Animalistic cries escaped uncontrollably from the brunette's throat as Draco's ass contracted over and over on him.

He pulled them into a sitting position, the blonde in his lap, still sheathing Harry's erection, using the new found pose to reach around his lover's back and grab those slim shoulders, thrusting the small, pale body to meet his, eliciting a moan from both boys with every motion. Harry bit down on the exposed shoulder as his vision blurred and head rung.

"Harry, oh god, Harry," Draco's voice assaulted the air as he trembled near convulsion, "Please, there!" Blindly thrusting at a frantic pace, the blonde rode his partner, losing his mind all the while.

Harry's nails drug down the Slytherin's back at the final forceful thrusts, their skin violently slapping together with sweat and vehemence. He felt his gut clench rapidly, his mind dizzying further, blacking out his visions, as he came in harsh spurts inside of Draco. The blonde's voice broke pitch at the warm liquids filling him, unleashing his own climax coursing through him like crashing tides, screaming out the golden boy's named.

Harry fell back on the bed with Draco on top of him still giving small shivers indicating to the brunette that he'd had a good orgasm. He smiled at the thought and with a flick of his wand, dimmed the lights and produced a blanket, snuggling Draco closer to him, sharing his heat.

"I love you, Dray, more than you could ever imagine," he whispered against his hair.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi readers! Just a little note here. I'm thinking most chapters will take up to a week to get out. My goal, however, is to get one out every four days, but if it takes a week, please don't be angry. It is my senior year and I'm a dancer and I have a serious boyfriend and two little brothers to take care of because both my parents have full time jobs. All of those take up quite a bit of my time. Hope this chapter is entertaining at the very least, for there is lack of fluff and smut. It's mostly plot and angst. Well... Enjoy! I mean, as much as one can enjoy 1.1K words of plot and angst.

ღღ Chapter Three ღღ

Harry was still pulling at his clothing, arranging them presentably as he tried to merge with the crowd and appear to have not done anything out of the ordinary. Unfortunately, Ron and Hermione spotted him in no time, and cut him off on his mission to get to his seat in potions peacefully without interference.

Ron leaned in close next to him, as if he were even in capable of whispering properly. "Where were you las—" he broke off, resuming rather loudly to the corridor, "Ahh, Harry, you reek of spunk!" The red head jumped back and Hermione let out an uncharacteristic snort. Harry abashed, tried to hide his flamed face.

An awkward silence ensued, which Ron, of course, couldn't leave be, despite how obvious it was that his best friend did not wish to dwell longer on the subject. "So... Who were you with?" A mortified, gaped-mouth Harry would have rather been anywhere but in the throng of people with his closest friends.

"Ronald!" Hermione defended, "He clearly doesn't want to talk about it."

"Sorry, I just thought this was the stuff you chat about with your best mate," Ron maintained to Hermione, although the remark had a certain bite towards Harry as well.

The Boy Who Lived was thankful this time that the other two remained quiet or at least did not address him with conversation for the rest of the walk to Snape's classroom. Gazes still awkwardly passed between the three as they took their seats; Harry's with Ron and Hermione beside Katie Bell. The Granger girl stole peaks to check that there were no severe issues remaining between the boys.

"Granger, is there something wrong with your neck? No? Then turn around!" Snape barked, "Class has begun."

Of course, class had, in fact, not set in motion by any means, but that had never stopped Snape before from using the excuse, among numerous others, to accuse the Gryffindor's of unsatisfactory behaviour. So when Draco Malfoy strolled in late, it was naturally ignored. Despite class having already started for the Gryffindors, the period started whenever Snape decided for particular Slytherins.

When Hermione really looked at Draco, she noticed something that would have only been very apparent to her. "Is that..." she mistakenly whispered aloud. 'It can't be Harry's jumper,' the Gryffindor girl thought, catching herself.

"Professor, I'm terribly sorry, but may I use the lavatory?" It was Harry who had spoke to Hermione's great shock. How odd it sounded to hear such politeness between the two.

Snape rolled his dark eyes. "Well, I suppose, Potter, but there's absolutely no reason you couldn't have gone 10 minutes ago, you know, before my class started."

"Sorry, emergency," Harry murmured, already scooting out of the room. Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly wishing to take ten points from Gryffindor, but probably couldn't see how even he could justify it.

"Well," the potion's master stated, "If we could resume, by any chance?" He waited several moments as if expecting someone to interrupt again. "Great, turn to page 682," he continued, in an arrogant tone, before his students could even reach the page, "the Dreamless Sleep Potion. Not really one you need to know for this class, but I am tired of Madame Pomfrey having me concoct it for students."

Hermione swore she saw his eyes linger intentionally on Draco. For a flicker of a moment, she felt sorry for the Slytherin and the way his eyes were fearful under the inspection of Snape's glare.

"Granger," the greasy haired man's bellow was harsh against the stone walls. She couldn't help but marvel at why he was always so cruel and miserable. "Go to my supply room for the ingredients."

She complied and fled the room. 'Best not to keep him waiting,' she considered. Unknowingly, she passed Harry hiding and waiting behind a pillar just outside the classroom.

Snape's eyes followed her as she went then flicked to Draco. "Where is your book?"

"I'll get it," the blonde squeaked, licking his lips nervously and exited as well. In panic, he hitched the right side of his body on the door but hurled on.

Harry caught him by the shoulders not even five feet away from the threshold. "Draco, love, look at me." He wondered for what seemed like the hundredth time as of lately, why he had to search Draco's face for emotion. He used to just know what was wrong. They never kept secrets.

Draco's eyes were wide, Harry realized for the first time, the same way they had been that night in the Manor. His body rigid and shaken, fearful, yet defensive and trapped. A look, three years ago, he'd never thought he'd observe in the prideful blonde.

"I'm right here," Harry spoke with conviction, although Draco avoided his serious eyes. Unwilling to accept that, the dark haired boy grabbed his face, giving him little choice but to face his gaze. Then Harry kissed him into the wall, and for a moment, he did forget everything, like being stranded in an ocean, terrified, and then realizing that floating gently with the waves caressing your skin was an option.

Unfortunately, the sound of approaching footsteps met the Gryffindor's ears just in time for him to remove his lips from Draco's.

"Harry..." Hermione uttered, sure that she had seen something intimate as well as the fact that there were tears running down Draco's face.

Said brunette recoiled and spat, "We'll talk about this later." He hoped Hermione would just pass it off as another row, but he also desperately wished that Draco would disregard the harsh tone and recognize his sincere request.

As if he wasn't already hopelessly trying to wash his memory clean of that night with Draco and Voldemort, it was now being brought back, this time like unrelenting downpour. He just couldn't comprehend a despaired Draco. The blonde's sadness felt like his own and could not distress Draco without leaving Harry distraught as well.

Forcefully looking away as to not torture himself further with the scene of his traumatized love fleeing, he slid rather painfully down the stony wall, not even capable of caring anymore what Hermione was procuring from the situation. He could only wonder how he had become so helpless.


	4. Chapter 4

My dear readers, I am so sorry for taking so long to update. It's been like two weeks and I thought I could do this in four days. That was very foolish to think. I've been too fatigued to do much of anything. Hopefully my illnesses will be under control soon or at the very least, I'll power through and update this story once a week. This chapter was a bit difficult to get out because I want to stay true to the original plot to some extent. Thank you for sticking by, despite my slow update. Hope you enjoy!

ღღ Chapter Four ღღ

For the second morning in a row, Harry was using one of the school's owls to write Draco. The blonde had sunk even further away from him and into his own shadows— unreadable, intangible, and distant.

Sure, he had been in bad shape when they first found each other, but the Gryffindor had never seen him so far gone... And why? He had broken the proud Malfoy's walls before and he would do it again. This would not come between them. He would see that beautiful smile reserved only for him. He would have _his_ Draco back.

Harry remembered their joy at first being together. So much more than either boys could have dreamt of.

_"Oi, Malfoy," Harry sneered in the locker room after a Quidditch match. The other boys that had remained, quickly moved on, knowing there was going to be a petty conflict, awkward to witness and lacking the excitement of a real row. _

_Unlike the other students, Harry's comment made Draco whip around, "Gonna rub it in my face, Potter? We may have lost this time, but I'd still beat your arse in a seeker's match."_

_"Is that so?" The brunette spoke in a snarl but turned to see if everyone was really gone before softening his voice, "Sorry, Dray... about you losing that is." He opened up his arms to the Slytherin only to be turned down. "Oh don't be like this. Wipe that little pout off your face," Harry cooed, matching the look with dramatized doe eyes, grabbing a stiff, unwilling Draco anyway._

_Harry rubbed circles into his back, relaxing the reluctant boy. "Hmph," the Malfoy exhaled._

_"Now, now, what was that about beating my arse," Harry goaded in a strong air, then began tickling his love. "What were you saying? Just tell me, Dray, tell me." But it would have been impossible for Draco was gasping and wriggling and laughing musically._

_"Stooop," the blonde was trying to gulp air and squirm, to no avail, out of the tickling grasps of his offender. Harry released him once tears flowed down his face and he had dropped to the floor, holding his sides. "I hate you," he puffed, brooding up at Harry. _

_"No you don't," Harry sat beside the blonde and pulled him onto his lap, nuzzling his nose into the sweet, floral scented locks of gold. It was his favourite fragrance as of late. At night, he would procure the scent from memory and remember the soft plains of the blonde's skin under his fingers and think of what he'd like to do to the boy. It was thrilling to be enticed in that aroma, a privilege to be wrapped in those arms. Harry cherished the graceful, dizzying beauty of receiving the blonde's selective care and attention._

_He kissed the still pouting boys forehead. "I love you, Dray." He kissed again and again, laying back and pulling the Slytherin's warm body against him. Without thought, Draco curled his fingers in the fabric of Harry's shirt. As much as he hated appearing vulnerable, Harry brought it out in him._

_Thump. Thump. Thump. The brunette's heart beat steadily in the ear that was pressed to its home. 'This is the only place I'll ever want to be,' Draco thought, pressing closer to Harry's chest. Mind drifting, eyelashes fluttering somnolently. 'Is this falling in love?' He wished he was wrong, he thought he was right. And also thought, maybe that it was okay._

"Harry... Harry!" Hermione shaking his shoulder, snapped him out of his reverie. "I asked who you were sending a letter to, but apparently no one because you're not even here."

"Oh yeah," Harry murmured, not really answering Hermione.

The bushy haired girl rolled her eyes, "Harry, who are you sending a letter to?"

She could see the panic in his eyes and knew that what ever he spouted was going to be a lie. "The Weasleys," he answered. But as she had so many time since her brilliant mind started realizing something more was going on, she dropped the subject, trusting that Harry would tell her when he was ready.

...

"I can't believe you said that in front of everyone," Draco groaned exasperated, "It was obvious that you were talking about me."

Snape rolled his eyes at the dramatic display. "Just be grateful I taught you how to make the potion... Besides, it's Harry you're concerned about knowing and he wasn't even in the room."

Draco's stomach rolled at the thought of the secret. It seemed like Snape knew everything about him. Excluding Harry and himself, the potion's professor was the only person to know about the relationship, even though it was because of Occlumency and not choice. The blonde had to admit that it was nice for his godfather to know everything. He had someone to talk to since the incident. However, at the moment, he just wanted to break down. He was tired to the point of wobbly knees and numb to the point of insanity. Every negative memory from summer that crept back into his mind was like a shard of glass piercing him, which had prompted his decision to just try not to feel... But then there was Harry— sweet, unknowing Harry who made it feel okay, but also invited in feelings. Everytime he went around him, the icy freeze of heart would start to melt and he had to feel the pain of the memories and feel the guilt of his lover not knowing, and yet, at the same time, Harry calmed the monsters; at exactly the right height of intensity and passion, Harry also made him forget and the explicable joy from that was better than constant numbness. He just wished escaping into their love didn't cause him to crash afterwards.

"He's trying so hard to take ca—" Draco's voice broke as he choked back tears.

Snape waited for him to continue on, but the blonde was too afraid to speak because he knew it would come out as sobs. His final seams that had kept him stitched together had split open like those of an old teddy bear and now he couldn't hold anything inside.

"Have you secured the cursed pearls from Borgin and Burkes?" Snape inquired wearily.

Draco could tell that he was trying to calm him by changing the subject but it wasn't enough, nothing could console him now, especially mentioning more secrets he was keeping from Harry. 'He doesn't deserve all of these lies,' Draco thought mournfully, 'He doesn't deserve to be with someone so ruined. He should have just let me die and made this easier on everyone involved.'

Through the heavy silence, the blonde walked out. No one could help him now. Not Snape. Not even Harry.


	5. Chapter 5

Hi readers, I know my lack of updates is unforgivable. I'm very sorry. I've been going through a lot lately, but a chapter is finally here, and in fact, within the hour I'll be finishing up the chapter after and posting that as well, and I'll even start another chapter after that. I put a lot of work into these two chapters so I hope it is a consolation. Sorry again. 3 Please enjoy!

ღღ Chapter Five ღღ

"Let me in! I need to see Draco," Harry demanded as he tried to push past Blaise into the Slytherin common room. It had been days since Draco had allowed Harry near him or taken any of his messages. He was at the point that he didn't care if Blaise or any other Slytherin was confused or suspicious. He needed to see Draco.

"Draco! Draco!" He shouted into the room.

Everyone was watching Harry, but he felt no shame. There was something wrong with his love, and some things are just so much more important than self-preservation.

The blonde Slytherin flew through the threshold of the dormitory. "Get in my room before you cause even more of a scene," Draco sneered cheekily, but unable to fully mask the look of horror on his face. As Harry walked past, the blonde gave him an extra push into the dormitory. In other circumstances, Harry would have thought it was for show, to keep up their painful facade, but he seemed genuine in his anger.

As he had guessed, the twisted expression did not soften when Draco turned on him in the silence of the private room. "What?" he barked, his icy stare steady and preditorial on the wounded animal that was Harry cowering in confusion.

"What do you mean 'what?' I don't even know what I did and you're just—" he choked, he didn't want to say it, "and, and you're just _done_." Unwelcomed tears came to Harry. He focused on a point behind Draco's head, restricting the tears, but the sensation incessantly clawed its way up his throat, pulling his lip from between his teeth, grasping his jaw in strong hands and prying it open to release a sobbing gasp of air. Now that words started flowing, he couldn't shut it off. "Why is this happening?" His voice cracked, but he swallowed hard and took a deep breath, advancing on Draco forcing his cool composure to give a slight, subtle retreat. Harry searched his eyes as silence ressurected its place. "Is it still there?" the Gryffindor's tone was gutted and tranquilized, though tears still welled in his emerald orbs. He gently took Draco's jaw in his palm, locking their eye contact. "Your love for me."

Without feeling it, Harry could tell the boy's heart was racing, his hands trembled at his sides, yet his expression was so still, frozen in an unfamiliar mask of fear and sorrow. Harry did not understand, but Draco was right before him and they were so close after days of being apart.

The brunette mirrored his hold on his lover with his other hand, his gaze finding Draco's plush parted lips. He ran his thumb over the beautiful mouth, running his tongue over his own. How could one human being be so androgenous and perfect? A true Adonis. He could he ever let him go.

Harry leaned in, causing Draco to inhale shallowly, but his eyes closed in expectation. As Harry's lips barely brushed the blonde's, he felt him press back, bridging any distance. A calm buzz pulsed through Harry's body as their lips moved in sync. He grasped at Draco's robes, breathing deeply through his nose and crushing their lips together harder as if he could filter all the unspoken love and sadness in his absence between their mouths.

Too soon, Draco jumped away, out of the hold Harry had on him. The Gryffindor saw it again: that awful, horrified look on his face. Again, he fled, looking too suffocated where he was, like it was crucial to leave because whatever was in there was killing him.

Anger and frustration so severe and acute submersed Harry. He kicked at the bed. His head hurt and his eyes burned. He was unable this time to suppress everything he was feeling. The room was scented of Draco, floral yet somehow still masculine and musky. Harry sank to the floor and cried helplessly. He'd been through so much without much fuss, but he deserved Draco; he was his solace. When nothing felt like home, Draco was his home, his anchor, his secret hiding place, so special, where no one else could go and no one else could provide. Draco was always the weaker one. He always needed Harry more. Now the Gryffindor was sure he had miscalculated it all.

...

Upon finally exiting the private dorm into the zoo that was Slytherin Common Room, there were perpetual sneers and bitter remarks. "Wanna be bff's with Drakey?" one crooned mockingly.

"Switching sides? Gonna help take down old Dumbledore?" At that Harry whipped his head in that person's direction. It was Zabini.

Harry lunged for him. "What did you just say?" he spat. Zabini only smirked in response, enjoying the way it bothered the Gryffindor. "Draco would never do that," Harry's voice fluctuated, betraying any chance of sounding confident.

"Keep thinking that, Chosen One."


	6. Chapter 6

Hello faithful readers, the other chapter as promised! I am already starting the next one as we speak as well and will have it up as soon as I can. Go get your tissues. Here comes the angst. xoxo

ღღ Chapter Six ღღ

His encounter with the Slytherin's had sent Harry reeling beyond comprehension. Life seemed impossible. There was nothing he could do to put it back in order. It had been ripped into pieces and strewn across the oceans: irreparable.

There was no sign of Draco for the rest of the day. The Gryffindor made his way to the Great Hall for dinner and his lover did not even show up there, making it an entire day of no eating. Harry needed some kind of explanation, some reassurance that the Slytherin boys were just trying to get under his skin. It would all make sense though— the way Draco had been behaving. But it seemed so wrong. How could he have such disloyalty and dishonour for their love?

This was the same boy that exploded in anger, throwing slaps and punches when he knew he finally had to admit he was in love with Harry because he could not make himself not feel for him, could not resist and refuse and deflect anymore. It was too intense; too much passion right from the very beginning. How could this boy that loved him so immensely be the same as the one that had now turned his back and betrayed him so?

He just felt cold. He had to find Draco. Hunting him down like a wild animal was not something he had wanted to resort to, but the marauder's map would lead him to Draco and he had little other choice.

As he made his way from the Great Hall on the ground floor to the sixth floor where Draco was apparently located, he caught glimpses of the blizzard outside. It was way too late into winter for such weather. It had not even snowed so much the entire time he was stuck in the castle over holiday break.

_Harry remembered that fortnight. Draco was actually able to stay with him. He truly seemed happy for that short time with hardly no one there, no one or nothing to worry about. Everything had already been so shaky with Draco that Harry had never been so thankful for another's happiness. He had showered him with love and gifts, hoping that maybe, just maybe, the contentment would stay. Of course, it had been too much to hope for._

Then a familiar voice, fretted with sobs, brought him from his reverie. "You have to do this, Draco, you have to. He'll kill you." It was probably meant to sound strong, give him a boost, but his pep talk was interlaced with those pitiful, strangled cries.

Harry opened the door to Draco's back; he was facing the mirror with a hand on each side of the sink to brace himself. His whole body was trembling, and blood from fresh wounds trickled down his arms into the ceramic basin like stark, scarlet vines choking out the ivory surface. Self- inflicted. The cutting was done. Draco was past that. Right? _Right?! _When they had eased into friendship and taking care of each other, Harry had given him the strength to overcome the worst of the depression and pain. It wasn't happening again.

Nausea rolled through Harry; the way a boulder might have to carve its way through the earth. "Dray," he swallowed hard, "What's going on?" When the blond spun on his heels, his face was shocked, but he caught himself quickly.

"I thought you understood me, Potter! Now get out of here," he demanded with an austere and venomous expression.

"Really? Really? This is what you've resorted to? The silly name-calling of boys in the past. You're in love with me. We love each other!"

Draco shook his head and his eyes squinched shut, his mouth opening and closing. "You don't know," he heaved, "You don't know what you're talking about." But it looked painful to say.

"Dray, please," Harry spoke softer, the way you might lure a weary, stray cat that did not yet trust you. As the Slytherin tried to avoid his eyes, Harry took him in his arms from behind, holding him tight, burying his face at the pulse of Draco's throat and inhaling his sent with a deep, lung-stretching breath, like he'd never be able to again.

"No," Draco's voice wavered, "No— Harry, no." Then he started fighting back, kicking and squirming and sobbing until he had put a satisfactory space between the Gryffindor and himself with a few sloppy stumbles. He had pulled his wand as he gasped for air. Harry was mortified. There were no words. "Get. Out," Draco harshly punctuated each word. Harry looked down but shook his head. "Get Out!" he roared again.

But the Boy Who Lived protested, "You're not going to scare me away. I've seen every part of you... This isn't anything we can't handle."

The blonde's mouth quivered, just as Harry thought he'd done something to make him see reason, to break through— this chilly mannequin that was not his Draco that clung onto him passionately, whelmed to tears during their love making— the boy who was a stranger hexed Harry onto his back. Instinctively, he was back on his feet with his wand pulled too, pointing it at Draco, not even sure if he could use it.

He cast another spell, flinging blood from his wrist as his arm whizzed through the air. The Gryffindor dodged it, and it shattered a sink beyond his left shoulder, causing water to slosh onto the tiles.

"Jinx me," Draco maniacally screamed, "Jinx me, Harry." The Gryffindor was still too stunned to respond. "You coward!" the blonde yelled, jinxing Harry squarely in the head, knocking his feet out from under him as his head accumulated a hot sensation, making his ears ring. Draco jinxed him again while he was down. "Do you hate me?"

Harry weakly shook his head, earning several brutal hexes from the manic boy, making his whole body feel shattered and on fire until even breathing was painful. '_For enemies_,' Harry thought, '_This is what you want_.'

"Sectesempra!" Harry casted.

It brought no satisfaction when Draco crumpled and even less when Harry fully took in the sight before him. A gash had opened his lover from jaw to navel and blood poured from the gutted lesion. Draco was gasping like a fish out of water, but his eyes were focused dead straight on the high ceiling, the light and life seeping from the beautiful silvery irises morphing them sickly into a foreign, bitter grey.

Harry's heart immediately began pounding as he dashed to his lover. The dying boy's name tore from his lips again and again as tears streamed from his eyes "Draco, Dray baby, Draco." He held the pale face, more colourless than usual in his palms. "Please, don't go! No, no, no!" His screams were anguished. It was just too much. There was no spell, no charm, no enchantment that he knew to remedy what he'd done. His love was dying at his hands; his precious blood draining away into the murky water and down the drains, lost forever in the dim tunnels under this mausoleum.

After that, everything was such a blur. His heart ached so severely that Harry was sure he was dying too— or maybe he just hoped. His pain was inadequate to what he deserved. What felt like years passed as he curled his fists into Draco's robes, apologizing over and over, wishing it could somehow make a difference, and repeating that he loved him, praying that despite everything, he knew before he was gone.

The doors opened for the first time since Harry entered the lavatory, which was hardly noticed by the tortured brunette. It only snapped him to reality when Snape pushed him away from his lover, looking horrified. Without hesitation, he was performing a spell that seemed to be knitting the wound back together, ceasing the flow of blood to an extent, but Draco's eyes were still unseeing. At least, the blood meant that his heart was still pumping.

"How could you do this to him?" Snape said on repeat, his voice stripped of breath and composure. He couldn't hear much else with his peripherals blackening and the world feeling heavy. "How could you do this to him?"

The last thing he saw was Snape whisking Draco away because at that moment, his skull hit the floor and his mind fuzzed out and he couldn't see or hear or feel anything.


End file.
